Self-Care

Some days it feels like a foreign language

I’m asked to practice, with new words

for happiness, work, and love. I’m still learning

how to say: a cup of tea for no reason,

what to call the extra honey I drizzle in,

how to label the relentless urge to do more

and more as poison. And how to translate

the heart’s pounding message when it comes:

enough, enough. This morning, I search for words

to capture the glimmering sun as it lifts

above the mountains, clouds already closing in

as fat droplets of rain darken the deck.

I’m learning to call this stillness self-care too,

just standing here, watching goldfinches

scatter up from around the feeder like pieces

of bright yellow stained-glass, reassembling

in the sheltering arms of a maple.

--James Crews